My parents were proud of me, and I was proud that they were proud of me.
Convinced that I was doing the “right thing,” I spent a year botching Excel spreadsheets and crying in office bathroom stalls. At best, I completed simple administrative tasks, such as printing paper and hoarding Post-its, with mild competence.
* * * The afternoon that I was placed on Performance Probation, I left work early. I remembered a conversation I had several months earlier with an acquaintance, whose ex-girlfriend, he claimed, made a decent living as a camgirl. ” I asked him, familiar with the phenomenon only through sidebar Internet advertisements claiming that Jessie19, conveniently located in my neighborhood, wanted to fuck, like, “Well,” he said, “usually they just strip, tease and get themselves off in front of guys online in exchange for money and gifts.
“Freelance work,” I told my boss and parents alike.But before I could even finish doubting myself, a swarm of users flooded my chat room, tipping liberally with “tokens,” the website’s local currency, and barraging me with questions. “Well, I came here because I hate my real job and wanted to see if this could be a viable financial alternative,” I said, tweaking my nipples a bit in hopes of resuscitating some of the erections I undoubtedly just lost.(, someone later explained.) Needless to say, the only buns purchased that night were my own, freshly delivered to the computer screens of over 300 strangers. “How does it feel getting naked in front of hundreds of guys?Last autumn I sat in a midtown cubicle sorting receipts for my boss’s monthly expense report.I had recently earned my master’s degree from Harvard and had accepted a coveted yet thankless entry-level position at a well-known philanthropic organization in New York City.Much like waitressing or washing floors, professional masturbation was simply incommensurate with my educational background and perceived level of dignity.